


heaven is a kiss and a smile

by sparkycap



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Professors, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Open Marriage, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-23 00:38:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9631979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparkycap/pseuds/sparkycap
Summary: Sometimes Nix likes to bring his husband home presents. Sometimes those presents take the form of attractive young men in their bed. And when their old friend comes back into town ready to build a life there, well, Nix believes in re-gifting.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So apparently my two most recent fics involve threesomes in a major way. I don't know when I became this person but I think I'm okay with it? Credit to whip-pan for the au idea and thanks to her for the cheerleading.

It always snows most in February.

Nowadays, at least, it seems like the weather hardly starts getting cold until December. November sometimes feels like spring, and he can’t remember the last white Christmas, but January is when things start getting miserable, and February is when the blizzards come.

Nix isn’t a fan.

Today the snow is just enough to make travel inconvenient but not quite enough to make it dangerous, which means he has no excuse not to be out in it. Even if he doesn’t have to make the trek for classes, there are still a few things that can get him to leave the warmth of his house.

Carwood Lipton is one of those things.

He’s a little late, unusual for him, and Nix puts it down to inexperience handling the weather. Winters weren’t too heavy where he grew up, and he surely had to get used to it during his time at MIT (Boston was an adjustment even for Nix, and he swore never to spend a full winter there again), but he’d spent the last year or so out at Stanford.

Carwood got back into town last week, and it seems like he’s sticking around for a while. It isn’t that Carwood is flighty, in fact Nix has never met a steadier guy—except maybe his husband, but then that’s probably why the two of them get along so well—but he is curious. He goes where the work and the cutting edge research is, and he always comes back with a new light in his eyes and a wealth of information and half-formed theories of his own to share with Nix over lunch.

They met nearly eight years ago now, when Nix was a new professor and Carwood was an undergrad at Columbia, and had hit it off when Carwood posed a question about a reading that led to a few late nights of working equations until their brains hurt and mainlining coffee until they were itching to test out the practical applications. A few years later, Carwood had been his student again when he’d filled in at MIT for a semester and Carwood was there getting his doctorate.

Nix won’t be surprised if Carwood goes into teaching himself one day, but for now he’s landed a job at an engineering firm in the city. That, among other things, makes him perfect for the opportunity Nix is about to offer.

By the time he looks up and spots Carwood walking in the door, the kid is already smiling. A smile that looks too bright for the overcast day outside, too warm for the thick blue scarf he’s unwinding from his neck. He lets it drape over his shoulders and removes the matching hat, tucking it into his coat pocket as he smooths his hair with his free hand and looks around.

“Is it that cold out, or are you just sunburnt from ditching us for those west coast robot builders?” Nix calls to get his attention.

Involuntarily, Carwood raises one hand to touch his pink cheek. He laughs, shakes his head, and makes his way over. “I’m just that happy to see you, sir.”

“None of that,” Nix says dismissively. “Come on, sit down. I’d get up for you, but, well, this is New York. Should know by now to leave your manners in Huntington.”

“I left them with Dick, actually.”

“Was that a—did you just make a joke about sleeping with my husband?”

“ _No_ , Jesus Christ, is that where your mind goes? I was just on the phone with him.”

“Right, that makes more sense. And here I’d been hoping you’d gotten a little wilder.”

Carwood rolls his eyes and turns away to order as their waitress comes by, requesting a coffee and a sandwich in a voice much softer than the one he’d used with Nix, adding a _please_ and a _ma’am_ and a _thank you_ and everything. The girl takes it all down professionally and steals her glances in a very tasteful manner, but Nix watches amused as she can’t stop a flush spreading across her cheeks and doesn’t seem to breathe again until she walks away.

“She wants you,” Nix says casually.

“What?” Carwood does a double take—only possible, Nix notes, because he was watching the girl walk away—and then stares at him like he’s insane. It’s a look Nix gets often enough, but it holds almost no weight coming from Carwood, who he once watched blow a sparking bottle rocket clear across a crowded field just to prove to a visiting high school student that he could. “She’s just doing her job, Nix.”

He rolls his eyes. “Well, I don’t mean because she took your order.”

“Then what makes you say it?”

“I have eyes, unlike you.”

“And why use them for that?” Carwood asks, exasperated. “What do you expect me to do with that information, go ask if she’s got a break any time soon and take her back to my car for a quickie?”

“See, I would have said alley,” Nix says. “But you’re a gentleman.”

“ _Nix_.”

“You could. That’s all I’m saying.”

“Well, I’m not going to,” Carwood says.

He puts his elbows on the table and leans in. “Because you’re seeing someone else?”

Carwood’s eyes widen as understanding dawns. “That’s what all that was about?”

“No, that was mostly because you’re cute when you’re flustered,” Nix says. Sure enough, Carwood ducks his head in that adorable way of his and taps his fingers on the table. Nix grins. “Now I’m asking. Are you?”

“Is this you propositioning me again?” Carwood asks. “Because I appreciate whatever arrangement you and Dick have, and you’re both attractive men, but I—“

“It’s not,” Nix interrupts. “Not quite, anyway.”

Carwood watches him warily. “What does that mean?”

“It means the proposition isn’t for us,” he says. “Although _that_ offer—"

“—is always on the table, I know,” Carwood says. “For who, then?”

“A friend of ours. We think you’d be good together,” Nix tells him. “Dick thinks so too, not just me.”

Carwood gives him a look. “A friend?”

“A student,” he admits.

“Christ, Nix,” Carwood laughs. “An undergrad?”

“Hear me out,” Nix tries. “He’s not even _my_ student—"

“I don’t think I need to,” Carwood says. “You—what, are you sleeping with him?”

“Well,” he says.

Carwood shakes his head. Before he can say anything else, his food is set in front of him, and he hardly manages to look their waitress in the eye when he thanks her. Nix will accept responsibility for that, but he brushes off the glare Carwood shoots him. He’ll tip well.

“So why are you getting rid of him?” Carwood asks finally.

“It’s been awhile now. It’s time,” Nix says as easily as he can.

“You getting attached?” Carwood asks, a hint of concern in his voice now.

Nix laughs. “Honestly, that ship has sailed. But no, it’s mostly for him. He’s something else, Lip, and hell, if we could keep him as a bed warmer forever I think we both would. But he needs more than that, and Dick and I… there’s space in our marriage for the occasional casual fling, but not that.”

“Is it causing problems for the two of you? Dick didn’t mention anything—“

“Stop worrying,” Nix says. “And stop trying to mother me. We’re fine.”

“Sure. You’re just being responsible,” Carwood says, words dripping in disbelief.

“Is that so hard to believe?” Nix asks.

“That you know your limits?” Carwood cocks his head pointedly at Nix’s coffee, like he knows there might be a splash or two of whiskey in it. “Little bit, yeah.”

“Fair enough,” Nix says. “But Dick does.”

“Alright,” Carwood says. “So you’re fine, and there’s nothing wrong with this kid, and you’re just out of the goodness of your heart trying to find him a new keeper.”

“Don’t think of it like that,” Nix says. “Don’t think of it as a burden, think of it as a welcome home gift.”

Carwood laughs. “And does he know you’re trying to give him to me?”

“Not yet. We wanted to make sure you agreed to come to dinner first,” Nix says.

“Dinner,” Carwood says flatly. “That’s all.”

“No strings attached,” Nix agrees. “Just come see if you like him.”

…

Back in October, Dick walked into the bedroom he shared with his husband of nearly fifteen years to find Lew in bed with a pretty dark-haired boy.

The boy had his head tipped back against Dick’s pillow, mouth parted around a silent moan and hands fisted in the sheets while Lew fingered him. Dick sighed. He started to undo his tie as Lew shot him a grin, but the boy didn’t seem to notice him.

“I thought we agreed no students,” Dick said mildly.

“How do you know he’s a student?” Lew asked. He didn’t even stop what he was doing, leaning in to bite the boy’s sharp jawline as he coaxed a stuttered moan out of him, no doubt hitched because the kid was trying to hold it back upon noticing Dick’s arrival.

“Humor me,” Dick said.

“Fine. This is Ron,” Nix said, with all the civility of a casual introduction on the street somewhere, as if two-thirds of the parties involved weren’t half-dressed and aroused in their marriage bed. “And he’s not one of our students. He’s a classics major.”

Dick hummed. “The point stands.”

“Yeah, I know,” Nix admitted. “But he’s just so pretty.”

Finally, Dick relented. He started to undo the buttons on his shirt while he agreed, “He’s a real looker.”

“Ah—Nix—" Ron said, reaching out to grab Nix’s arm and make him pause. “What’s—"

“Quiet, sweetheart,” Lew said. “Grown-ups are talking.”

Dick huffed a small laugh. “Tell me he’s legal, at least.”

“Oh, I know. Hard to tell with this mouth, right?” Lew rubbed a thumb across Ron’s mouth for emphasis, and Ron’s lips part as if automatically. “But he’s nineteen.”

“Younger than you usually go for,” Dick commented. It didn’t matter much; Ron clearly wanted it, and the way they were talking about him was clearly doing something for him. Lew was hardly moving his hand now, but Ron still looked blissed as all get out.

“He seems to like ‘em older.” Lew sounded fond, and he paused to kiss Ron quickly. And then he said casually, “So, you want to fuck him first?”

Ron moaned. Dick surveyed the situation, considering, and then shrugged. “Sure. Nice of you to offer.”

“Well, you look like you had a long day,” he said.

“Lew, I swear, if I never had to teach another freshman class again, I’d be happy,” Dick said as he hung up his shirt.

“That’s a lie and you know it,” Lew said. “You love those little bastards.”

“I don’t love them when half of them show up late and the other half don’t do the readings,” Dick said.

“You’re too soft,” Lew advised. “I just don’t let them in late.”

“That’s a little hypocritical,” Dick said. “Seeing as you’re usually ten minutes late yourself.”

“I’m the professor, I’m allowed to be.” Lew diverted his attention back to Ron for a moment, something Dick can't see making him pant and arch his back rather fetchingly.

Once Dick was stripped down to his briefs, he took a seat on the edge of the bed. Before he could say anything, Lew pulled him into a kiss. And really, Dick got distracted by his mouth even when it wasn’t moving expertly against his own, so under the circumstances he couldn’t be blamed for spending awhile kissing him while he fingered Ron lazily.

Finally Lew did something that made Ron whine, and Dick remembered himself enough to draw back. “Ron,” he said. “Did Nix tell you I’d be here?”

Ron shook his head.

Dick smiled wryly. “Did he even mention he was married?”

“No,” Ron said. He closed his eyes, biting his lip against a distressed noise as Nix withdrew his hand. Still, he looked a little more focused when he opened them again, nothing but certainty in his gaze, even if it was aimed at the floor. “No, but it’s okay. If you're okay, it's—the more the merrier.”

Dick tangled his hand into Ron’s hair, thick and dark and remarkably similar to Nix’s, and tugged until Ron looked at him. “And what Nix said earlier. Is that alright with you?”

Ron nodded hurriedly, eyes flicking over Dick’s body.

Dick gave another gentle tug. “Say it out loud for me.”

“Yes, sir,” Ron breathed all in a rush. Dick paused, sharing a surprised look with Lew, but Ron didn’t even seem to notice what he’d said. “I want it.”

Lew let out a delighted laugh. “Oh, I like this one.”

And Dick had to agree, especially when he leaned down to kiss Ron for the first time and Ron sighed happily against his mouth. Dick spent some time getting acquainted while Lew moved things along, rolling a condom onto Dick and jerking him off with a hand slippery with lube until he was sufficiently prepped and making soft noises into their kiss.

Ron was a good kisser, which maybe shouldn’t have been surprising, if he made a habit of this sort of thing. Eventually, Dick stroked a hand down his face and asked, “How do you like it?”

“Like this,” Ron said, settling onto his back and spreading his legs without protest when Nix nudged them apart. “But—any way, really, this is just..."

“He likes to be kissed,” Lew supplied, a thread of dark amusement in his voice.

Lew made love a lot like that tone, dark and decadent and languid. He did a lot of things that way, with an edge of arrogance, like he knew something the rest of the world didn’t and wanted to egg them on until they caught up. It was something Dick found entertaining in most situations, one of the things that drew him to Nix in the first place.

Ron was different. In a lot of ways, Ron was more obvious. When he was holding back, he didn’t cover it up with a one liner, he bit his lip or he looked away. He looked gorgeous when he did that, with a flush high on his cheeks and his hands flexing convulsively on Dick’s back. He moaned prettier, too, and seemed perfectly content to fall apart underneath Dick without any sort of bluster or front.

“He’s good, huh?” Lew asked Ron, brushing his hair off his forehead. “Gets nice and deep.”

Ron let out a sigh that bordered on a whine. “Dick, god.”

“You’re beautiful,” Dick breathed. He kissed Ron again, feeling Lew’s hand on the back of his head guiding him down, and Ron surged up against him with a muffled cry. Dick clenched his jaw at the feeling, doing his best to keep the same measured pace despite the pleasure tightening his stomach, and reached out one hand to squeeze Lew's.

Lew chuckled and slipped his free hand between their bodies to curl around Ron’s cock, and Dick took Ron’s shuddering sigh as permission to thrust into him a little harder, a little faster until they both came gasping into each other's mouths.

Once Dick pulled out and spent a good long time kissing Ron until he stopped trembling, Lew kissed his temple. “Feel better?”

“Much,” Dick said, rubbing a hand over Ron’s chest. “Don’t take that as permission to bring home cute undergrads every time I have a stressful day.”

Ron gave a satisfied sigh. “Nix? Is it your turn?” They both looked at him, and he sat up, smoothing down his mussed hair. “You said Dick would fuck me first. I hope that means you next."

Lew groaned and messed up his hair all over again, tugging him by the curls into a hard kiss. “Absolutely.”

They resituated themselves as Lew reached for the condoms again, Dick propping himself against the headboard and pulling Ron into his arms, having him rest between his legs and recline against his chest. Lew shot him a heated look while Ron relaxed into him.

“Okay, sweetheart?” Lew checked.

Ron nodded against Dick’s shoulder. “Please.”

And he let out a soft noise, almost a whimper, when Lew pushed into him, no doubt oversensitive, but he didn’t shift away. On the contrary, he reached out and pulled him closer.

Dick watched with a small amount of awe as Ron squirmed on Nix’s cock, making more noise this time around, breathy little things seeming forced out of his chest like he couldn’t quite hold them back anymore. It was overwhelming, that much Dick could imagine. Ron wasn’t making a secret of it—no matter how much he tried to bite back the moans, his eyes were watering with the overstimulation. Dick kissed away the tears forming under his eyes and rubbed his stomach as if he could soothe him.

As if he needed to be soothed. Dick got distracted, as he always did, by Lew looking at him with those dark eyes like there was no one else in the world but the two of them, so he wasn’t paying close enough attention to say for certain, but towards the end Ron shuddered in his arms and cried out so sweetly it made Lew moan, and Dick was pretty sure he’d come again.

Afterwards, Ron fell asleep almost immediately. Lew wrapped an arm around Dick, kissed his cheek, and said fondly, “Look at that, we managed to wear out a teenage boy.”

Dick groaned. “It sounds so creepy when you say it like that.”

Lew just laughed. “Let’s keep this one for awhile.”

Dick pulled the comforter up around Ron and pressed a short kiss to his forehead. “Seems like we at least owe him dinner.”

…

A few days after lunch with Nix, Carwood finds himself showing up to their house in the late afternoon, empty-handed because, despite what his mother would say if she knew, he knows better than to try to bring anything that will meet Nix’s standards.

There’s a yell for him to walk right in, and he does so to find Nix in the kitchen, stirring one pot and putting a lid on another and generally moving faster than Carwood is used to seeing him before he slows down, offers Carwood three different types of alcohol before accepting that he just wants water, and tells him Dick will be down in a minute.

The three of them spend some time catching up in the living room, Carwood filling Dick in on some of the more interesting non work-related details about his time in Palo Alto and hearing the latest on their lives. It’s easy and welcome and familiar, and Carwood could keep it going all night, but then it’s half past six and the fourth party should be here any time now, and Carwood wants to address the elephant in the room.

“So, Dick,” Carwood says, settling back into his chair. “You want to take your turn giving me the pitch? Because I gotta say, your husband’s a hell of a talker, but…”

“Always means more coming from Dick.” Nix sighs and shakes his head. “That’s what I get for trading up.”

Dick gives him a small smile. “You’re single, right?”

“I am.” The last real relationship he had was years ago now, before he left New York. Lately he has been getting that itch again, he’d be lying if he said otherwise. Meaningless sex can only cut it for so long.

“And you just started a new job, moved into a new place and everything, so you’ll be here awhile,” Dick continues.

“A long while, if I can help it,” Carwood says.

“So there’s no harm in a date,” Dick concludes, practical as ever. Carwood swears he could make anything reasonable when he uses that tone. “What’s the problem with this one?”

“Look, I’m sure he’s a nice kid. But really, a student?” Before Nix can object to that somehow, Carwood adds, “Technically he’s still a teenager, for Christ’s sake.”

“He’s twenty in April,” Nix says. “Not even a ten year age difference.”

“That’s not the point,” Carwood says. “I know plenty of guys don’t mind it, and that’s fine, but it’s just not for me. Don’t get me wrong, I like sex well enough, but I’m looking for more than that.”

“Good,” Dick says earnestly. “Ron needs more than that too.”

“There’s a reason we thought of you, you know.” Nix leans forward, elbows on his knees, something about him so magnetic that Carwood could see how anyone would believe just about anything he says right now. “Ron—well, okay, he _does_ like a lot of sex, I won’t lie. But he can get that from anybody. What he _needs_ is someone to actually care about him. Someone like you is going to be a lot better than someone his own age who doesn’t have a goddamn clue what to do with him.”

“And you thought I’d take good care of him?” Carwood asks, brow furrowed. “You make him sound like a puppy.”

Nix laughs. “It’s more about who you are than who he is. You pick up strays, Lip, you can’t help it. You’re like Dick that way, but unfortunately Dick’s already met his quota of lost boys to take in. It’s your turn.”

“Does that make you Peter Pan?” Carwood asks Dick.

“I think it makes me Wendy, actually,” Dick says.

Carwood grins. “Even better.”

And then the doorbell rings.

Casually, Nix leans back and says, “Lip, you want to get that?”

“He’s a guest, Lew,” Dick says with a long-suffering air. “I know you were raised with better manners than this.”

“I just want to give them a moment alone,” Nix insists. “Besides, he doesn’t mind.”

“It’s not a bad idea,” Carwood admits, getting to his feet. He makes his way down the hall, thinking all the while about how Nix might’ve talked this one up too much, right up until he opens the door.

And then he gets it. And then there's no thought left in his mind except for how goddamn right Nix was, and that these guys might know him too well. 

Luckily Ron seems to be having a similar reaction, staring at Carwood and hardly blinking for a solid twenty seconds. Carwood notes somewhat dazedly that he has very nice eyes. And nice eyebrows, and nice cheeks, and a very nice mouth. Eventually, Ron clears his throat and holds out a hand. “You must be Carwood.”

“And that’d make you Ron,” he says. Finally his brain comes back online. “How okay are you with all this? I know it’s just a dinner, but if you didn’t want… I know they can be pretty persuasive.”

Ron shrugs. “I don’t mind. They seemed convinced it was a good idea, and well…” He pauses and blatantly runs his eyes over Carwood, biting his lip. “I’d say they know me pretty well.”

Carwood ducks his head. “That so?”

“Definitely.” Ron smiles at him for the first time, soft and just a touch sweet. “Can I come in, or did you want to stand out here all night?”

“Sorry.” Carwood steps aside. “Sorry, I…”

Ron just pats his chest to move him along. “No apology necessary. I’m starting to think I’d be fine either way.”

He leads them down the hallway without another word, and Carwood follows without a thought, hand over his heart where Ron touched him.

Nix bursts out laughing the second he sees their faces. Carwood doesn't even mind.

It may be the best dinner of his life.

At the end of the night, he looks at Ron on the couch next to him, gaze drawn to the fireplace and seemingly content to let the conversation drift on without him for a bit, and finds it hopelessly endearing. “Hey,” he says, nudging his thigh lightly. “Can I give you a ride home?”

“Depends,” Ron says. “Does it have to be my home, or does that offer extend to yours?"

“I think that can be arranged,” Carwood says.

“There should be a storm this weekend,” Dick tells them quietly. “Might want to prepare for getting snowed in.”

That is not, in Carwood’s estimation, much of a problem. 

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Father Figure by George Michael.


End file.
